


When the Night is Over/Just What I Needed

by saintstrawberryxx



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Music, Concerts, Drake - Freeform, Inspired by Music, M/M, Writers, YouTube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27733207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintstrawberryxx/pseuds/saintstrawberryxx
Summary: Akaashi is a struggling writer working two jobs. His high school best friend, Kenma, is a successful Youtuber/streamer who just so happens to be dating famous rapper Kuroo Tetsuro. After being convinced to go to a show for their friend Hinata’s birthday, Akaashi meets his tourmate, rising star Bokuto Koutaro.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Sawamura Daichi, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. Road to Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> First fic I've ever published!  
> Guys, I'm ashamed to say that I was inspired by Drake's newest album, among other artists that I'll mention in the notes of the chapters. As for the first, I'd say the songs "Road to Nowhere" (chap title ٩(˘◡˘)۶) by the Talking Heads, and "I Need Some Sleep" by the Eels match the theme in sound/vibes. And of course, I mention the song, "You Send Me" by Sam Cooke. Beautiful song, check it out!  
> Thank you for reading!! ❤（っ＾▿＾）

Akaashi is only half listening as Kenma's monotone voice floods his ear. His phone is pressed up between his cheek and his shoulder as his hands work to stock cartons of milk at Sakanoshita. This is the most talkative Akaashi has heard his high school friend in quite some time. Eventually, it registers that Kenma is asking him something. Offhandedly, Akaashi makes a small sound of agreeance. He thinks they’re talking about Kuroo’s upcoming show.

“Akaashi.”

“Yes?” Akaashi hums in response.

“You’re not listening.”

He sputters into the phone in protest- despite knowing damn well he hadn’t a clue what Kenma just asked him.

“I just asked if you like Kuroo’s new single.”

“And?”

“And you said yes.”

“So? I could have liked it.”

“Akaashi. The only things you hate more than rap are unnecessary sequels and the Harry Potter books.”

“Oh,” Akaashi breathes out, taking a short break from his task and running his fingers through wild hair. There is a pause as Kenma waits expectedly for an explanation.

“You know I’m at work.”

“We talk all the time when you’re at the store. You’ve been spacing out lately. it’s not like you.”

“It’s not like you to say something.”

“Yeah. Just worried about you.”

“I’m sorry Ken. I have a major deadline coming up,” Akaashi says offhandedly.

“I get it.” 

He knows Kenma does. His 23-year-old best friend has amassed quite a demanding following from his youtube and Livestream career. He promises content just about every other day.

“Just... uh. Try to get some sleep.”

Akaashi wrinkles his nose.

“It’s weird to hear you give advice. Especially about sleep. Stop it.”

“You’re right. Anyway, if you need a break, I was planning on surprising Shou with tickets to the Tokyo show. I know it’s not your thing... It’s not exactly mine either,” Kenma admits. “But it’s Kuroo’s first tour with another rapper- Hinata’s idol or something. Figured it would be a good gift for his birthday. You should come. You know how Shouyo gets- he’ll want you there.”

He’s right. While he hasn’t known Hinata-san as long as Kenma has, the 20-year-old kid has taken quite a liking to him. Akaashi sighs for the fourth time this call. _Dammit Kenma_ , he thinks. The guy knows full and well no one can say no to Hinata.

“No.”

“’Kay. It's next Friday.”

“I’m sorry, Kozume,” Akaashi sighs.

“We have front row seats. Do you know how much someone would pay for these tickets?”

The older boy grits his teeth. If Kenma knows anything about his friend- it’s that he’s stingy with money.

“You already bought them?”

“Of course I did. Well, it’s Kuroo, so not really, but-”

“Find someone else, Ken. I have a lot of work to do. I’m sure Tsukishima wouldn’t mind going, he likes rap.”

“...We’re talking about Shou’s birthday, Akaashi. Not his worst nightmare.”

Akaashi grunts in response. A small chuckle threatening his lips. Kenma tries a new angle.

“You know, I think you might like this other artist. I guess he used to be gunning for Japan’s Olympic team. Started getting good about two years after you quit so I don’t think you’d know him. Then he injured his knee and couldn’t play anymore, turned to music.”

“You know I don’t care about volleyball anymore,” Akaashi says flatly.

Like he has a hundred times. He picks up another carton.

“Yeah. Think about it. For Shou. Gotta stream. See you ‘Kaashi."

“Bye, Ken.”

Akaashi rubs his temples, already aware of the outcome of this situation. 

He knows Kenma’s only pressing him so much because he hates crowds. What if he has an attack? Hinata would probably be too starstruck to help if something happened…

It takes more time than Akaashi’d like to admit before he notices the pool of milk forming in his lap.

“Dammit, dammit,” He mutters under his breath.

“You alright there, Keiji? You’ve been kinda zoning it all day,” his supervisor, Sugawara, appears behind him suddenly, offering a wide grin and some napkins. His big brown eyes remind Akaashi of a cow’s, in a way. They’re trained on him now, filled with concern.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine, Sugawara-san. My apologies.” Akaashi begins patting himself dry.

“No problem, looks like that carton had a hole in the bottom. That’s why we have aprons!” Sugawara says cheerily, putting his hands on his hips. “And how many times do I have to tell you, call me Suga!”

 _But that’s what Daichi calls you_ , Akaashi thinks to himself dejectedly.

“Right. Sorry, Suga.” It even tastes weird in his mouth.

The grey haired man gives him a look over, to which Akaashi shudders. It’s like the guy has x-ray vision or something, analyzing people like that. _Very effective when you have to manage people,_ he supposes. _I hate it._

“Why don’t you go ahead and have your break, ‘kay, Akaashi?” Sugawara helps him to his feet. Akaashi offers a small bow.

It’d be much easier to hate his ex-boyfriend’s new partner/manager if he wasn’t so damn nice.

“Yes. Thank you very much.”

* * *

Akaashi sleeps through his lunch and a little into his shift. He wipes his eyes and adjusts his glasses, then peers at his watch.

“Shit.” He rushes back into the store from his “bed” in the storage room (two fifty pound rice bags), tying his stained blue apron as he goes.

“‘Morning, sleeping beauty. Welcome to the real world. I need a bagger on 3,” his younger co-worker, Tsukishima, chirps. Akaashi nods and hurries over.

“Hello, ma’am. Did you find everything you were looking for today?”

* * *

It’s around five when Akaashi ends his shift. Sugawara, the bastard, let him out thirty minutes early. He relishes in his commute- the one hour in his day he gets to sit and think about nothing. He puts his headphones on and thumbs his mp3 player. When Akaashi’s finger involuntarily stops him at a particular track, he’s launched into a memory of two winters ago.

_“MP3 player, wow. You don’t, uh, you don’t see those much anymore.”_

_Akaashi looked up from the dirty grey subway floor and pulled his earbuds out, shocked to be met with the eyes of a tan, well built police officer settling into the seat across from him._

_“Oh sorry, Officer, um, what was that?”_

_The man, probably just a year older than him, Akaashi guessed, looked down at his uniform as if he was surprised to be in it. Then, he chuckled. Loudly. Akaashi, wildly confused, gave the brunette man a half-smile, nudging his glasses further up his nose._

_“Oh, whew. Sorry, sorry, I just got my badge today- never been called ‘Officer’ before. Sounds so official.” Akaashi gave him a small, breathy laugh._

_“Anyway, I just said you don’t see those a lot nowadays- MP3 players, I mean,” The policeman gestured to Akaashi’s lap._

_“Oh, right. Just had it since I was a teenager. Cheaper than streaming services, kinda.”_

_“I don’t know about that. Guess it depends on what you have on it.”_

_Akaashi smiled, "Yeah, yeah. I guess it does.”_

_“Oh, what, you’re just going to leave me in suspense?”_

_“Take a look for yourself, then,” Akaashi smirked, throwing the man his device. “Just don’t steal it.” That comment prompted a proper guffaw from the officer._

_“No promises… Let’s see here… Well, well, well, Glasses likes some oldies. Al Green, Etta James. Impressive. You were last listening to ‘You Send Me’, Sam Cooke.”_

_“A classic,” Akaashi pointed out._

_“That it is,” The man tossed the MP3 back to him. There was a brief silence before,_

_“Darling youuu send me. Honest you do, honest you do, honest you do, whoooooaaaa. You thrill me,” The stocky passenger sang roughly, staring at the ceiling. Akaashi blushed fiercely, embarrassed at his company’s sudden outburst. The man opened his mouth to sing more but was interrupted by Akaashi nudging him with his foot. The officer feigned shock._

_“Stop that.”_

_“Am I a bad singer? I’m offended, Glasses, really.”_

_“You just can’t do that in public.”_

_“I’m a police officer, remember? I can do whatever I want.”_

_“Oh, is that how that works?”_

_“It is, actually. Pretty handy.” The man continued to the next verse, now choosing to whistle instead. He then stopped for a moment and looked Akaashi in the eyes._

_“It’s Daichi. Officer Daichi, to you.”_

_Akaashi gave him a small grin._

_“Akaashi. Citizen Akaashi. Not Glasses.”_

_“Damn, and I really thought I got that one.”_


	2. Shampoo Bottles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise visit, mariokart, and Oikawa. Malibu also makes an appearance (Or multiple).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi has a bad memory. Relatable content.  
> Songs I recommend for this chap are Dionysus by the Buttertones, Always Forever by the Cults (for Kuroken >.<), and Shampoo Bottles by Peach Pit for the ending.  
> I promise Bokuto will show up in the next chap! >.<  
> I also make a reference to Natsume Ono because she smacks! Read her manga Not Simple; it is fantastic!

It’s Saturday, something Akaashi doesn’t realize until he is flying halfway out his front door and huffing a breath at his phone screen, mocking: _6:30 AM, Saturday, June 14th_. Exactly a week before Hinata’s birthday.

He blinks and remembers the night before, when he was nursing a red wine and a deadline for his _“Ono Natsume: Shouting for the Voiceless”_ article. He remembers, vaguely, submitting the piece at 11:50 and dropping his head right there on his cheap Ikea desk, exhausted.

Presently, he’s nodding awkwardly at his neighbor (leaving the complex to work out, no less) and trying to make it look, somehow, like he meant to open his front door only to close it seconds later.

Toeing off his work shoes and entirely caught off guard by the idea of the weekend, Akaashi retreats to his bed. He passes out almost as soon as his foggy head hits the pillow, dreaming of nothing. The next time he opens his eyes, his breath and body still completely.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty! It’s ten, I’m surprised you slept so long!”

“Kuroo-san, why are you in my apartment?”

The offender offers no answer but grins brilliantly, cat-like eyes level with Akaashi’s half-lidded orbs.

“And just how long have you been here anyway?” Kuroo ignores him again, instead choosing to stand from his squatting position. His hands at his hips, Kuroo wears a white oversized Bouncing Ball hoodie and black skinny jeans. Much to Akaashi’s discomfort, he still has his shoes on- red and white high top sneakers with the laces tucked in. As always, the guy’s flawlessly disheveled, silver jewelry glinting from his ears and neck.

Akaashi groans and plants his face in his pillow. _It’s too early for the young, beautiful, and rich_.

Kuroo, unsurprisingly, doesn’t yield Akaashi’s thoughts and scoffs once. The musician moves to draw open the curtains in his room. Keiji can’t help but grimace as he feels his skin bathed in hot summer light.

“Man. You should really dust your windowsills. Do you even ever open these things?! You’re not some bat, ‘Kaashi. You need fresh air.”

“I think bats need air too,” Akaashi mumbles into his pillow.

Kuroo waves a dismissive hand and turns to survey him, arms folded across a broad chest. Keiji reluctantly turns his head to address his stare, squinting without the aid of his glasses or contacts. Kuroo’s bedhead is seemingly even worse today- probably from whatever plane he just hopped out of. The latter smirks devilishly.

“Well. Are you gonna welcome me back or what?”

* * *

“So you didn’t expect to land in Tokyo until Thursday?” Akaashi asks this of Kuroo about 45 minutes after his intrusion into the writer’s apartment. The pair are getting brunch in some needlessly swanky rooftop restaurant, one where Kuroo _insisted_ he wouldn’t get recognized. Akaashi raised his eyebrows at that- his friend had stuffed his signature messy locks into one of Akaashi’s ratty baseball caps and donned aviators the moment they got outside.

No matter to him, anyway. Akaashi got fancy champagne out of the deal.

“Sure didn’t. Management called off the show in Singapore last minute. Something about the venue. Fuck if I know,” Kuroo explains almost incoherently through colossal bites of omelette.

“What matters is nobody got hurt. We refunded tickets and rescheduled the gig. S’all good. I’m just happy to be back home with my buddy!” Kuroo reaches over to slap Akaashi on the back with a friendly grin.

He’s sputtering over his mimosa when Kuroo continues, “Can’t wait to surprise Kenma tonight, either. Can you imagine his face?"

“Yeah, actually, I can,” Akaashi slouches his shoulders forward in his chair with an uninterested expression and quirks up an eyebrow ever so slightly, impersonating his best friend.

“Hey, that was pretty good! Though I guess it’s not that hard for you. You’re both pretty stoic. Like Easter Island Heads.”

Akaashi swats at him half-heartedly. Kuroo laughs.

“Anyway, you’re lucky I didn’t call him immediately this morning- or the police for that matter,” Akaashi retorts matter-of-factly. Kuroo clutches at his chest dramatically.

“Akaashi-kun. You wound me. I am the furthest from a criminal.”

Akaashi huffs a laugh.

“Tell the Osaka police force that.”

“Hey! What, a guy can’t take a piss anymore?”

“Not, apparently, from the top of the Umeda Sky Building-”

“To be fair, I didn’t know the officer was right there,” Kuroo interjects.

“-After downing half a bottle of Malibu with Oikawa. And you were 17. You were lucky you got off with underage drinking and didn’t get charged with public indecency.”

Kuroo pouts but offers no petition, raising his hands in surrender.

“Guilty as charged, I suppose. Hey, speaking of police officers-”

Akaashi clears his throat and interrupts, “Speaking of drinking, how was Singapore?”

Kuroo takes the hint and stretches back in his chair, raising his third bloody mary to his lips with a slight raise of his thin brows.

“Didn’t get much time there, only about four days before I got the call about the cancellation. Flew straight here after the news.”

 _Straight to Kenma_ , Akaashi supplies mentally, grinning fondly at his friends’ relationship.

“Anyway, it was pretty mild, all things considered. Bokuto seemed to like the clubbing scene more than I did. Matter of fact, he’s staying there 'til the concert on Friday.”

“Bokuto?” Akaashi says, cutting into his eggs and watching the yolk spill onto his fork.

Kuroo, now onto his nearly 2,500 yen crepe, takes a break from his meal to look up at him with a puzzled stare.

“My tourmate? Bokuto Koutarou? X. Ace?”

Akaashi meets his eyes blankly.

“I guess it makes sense his stage name doesn’t ring a bell, but I’m surprised you don’t know about the guy’s v-ball career.”

The blue-eyed 24-year-old drops his gaze to the napkin in his lap.

“Sorry, sorry. Touchy topic.”

_Pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san._

“Anyway, you should really check out some of his matches with the Panthers back in 2018.”

“He was signed with the Panthers?” Akaashi sputters, clapping his mouth shut immediately after.

Kuroo cackles.

“Don’t give yourself a heart attack, Akaashi. It’s okay to be impressed- it’s impressive. He’s crazy. You’ll be meeting him soon.”

Akaashi only hums in response.

"You're coming to the show, right?" 

Akaashi hums again.

"Keiji. You're coming to the show."

"Bah."

"Real talkative today, huh, Keiji?"

Akaashi shrugs.

"Oh come on," Kuroo pouts, "Your incredible brother-in-law, _who you love dearly,_ is in town and you're not going to support him as he performs in front of thousands of adoring fans?"

Akaashi sighs and rolls his eyes, _hard._

"You know it's not my thing, Kuroo. Besides, you're not my brother-in-law." 

Kuroo rubs the back of his neck. He grins timidly, a certain gleam in his eyes. 

"Yeah. Uh, not yet." 

Akaashi gapes.

"Tetsuro."

The aforementioned man wipes sweaty palms on his overpriced jeans and whistles lowly.

"My first name- shit, Akaashi. Feels like I'm about to get reamed out by my old man."

"Kuroo, stop joking. What do you mean, 'not yet'?"

"I'm going to ask Kozume to marry me." The older man's voice is just above a whisper, but it's steady.

Akaashi opens and closes his mouth in shock.

Kuroo looks up at him, hazel eyes dark, simultaneously nervous and hopeful.

"I'm not sure when, exactly," Kuroo starts to explain. "But... I really wanted your, er, blessing, so to speak. You know Kenma's family hasn't been in the picture ever since we started dating, and you're the closest he's got to a brother. You're the first to know, of course. 'Kaashi, please say something. Yer makin' me nervous, just sitting there like a fish-"

"Kuroo," Akaashi breathes, covering his mouth with his hand as he feels tears well up. 

"God, dude. 'M not asking _you_." He teases, but Akaashi sees the moisture building at the corners of his eyes, too. Akaashi can't help but laugh, giddy with joy.

"Of course you have my blessing, idiot. I couldn't picture a better partner for Ken. You were made for each other."

Akaashi says this simply; he wholeheartedly believes it.

Kuroo lets out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Yeah. Thanks for saying that, Keiji. I needed it. Thought it was about time."

"Uh, yeah, you and me both. I'm a bit surprised you two didn't get married in secret already, right after high school or something. For famous guys, you two keep it lowkey."

"Can't say I didn't think about it. Kenma needs you there though, I think. You and Shou. I don't care. Hell, it could just be the four of us and it'd be perfect. Small ceremony, huge party, a fucking pony with streamers out its ass. He'll get whatever he wants, you don't have to worry about that." Kuroo assures him, an intent expression on his face.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Oniisan," Akaashi grins wide.

"Oi. You can't call me that 'til after he says yes. 'S bad luck."

"Sure thing. You have a ring yet?"

"Nah, you've gotta help me with that part. I was thinking we go in a week or so. He doesn't know it yet, but Bo's coming, too."

"You've gotten pretty close to him, hm?"

"Honestly, yeah! We clicked right away- he's sorta like a little bro."

"Just how many brothers are you planning on acquiring, Kuroo?"

The rapper laughs, "As many as I can. Someone has to whip you youngins into shape."

"I'm only a couple months younger than you."

“Whatever...Enough about me. How about you? You baited yourself a hook yet?”

Akaashi's eyes train on Kuroo over his tall glass of orange juice and champagne. “Beg your pardon?” 

“You know. After Daichi,” Kuroo tries again.

No, he really hasn’t.

Akaashi downs the rest of his drink. He peers into his empty glass in response.

“Haven’t thought about it really. He said it himself- I don’t have the time.”

“Oh, Keiji. Nevermind him.”

“Don’t sigh like that. Did you fly all the way from China to pity me?”

The rapper shakes his head, “No, I didn’t. I just want you to-”

“Be as happy as you are with Kenma,” Keiji finishes.

Kuroo gives a gentle smile, “Can you blame me?”

“God. You two are worse than the shoujo manga I have to review.”

“But twice as fun.”

“Shut up and eat your crepe.”

Kuroo happily complies, “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

“I’m glad you’re home, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi remarks. And he is. Even with his busy lifestyle as a chart-topping artist, Kuroo somehow manages to draw both Kenma and Akaashi out of the house.

Kuroo and Kenma are both relatively new to their fame- about three years out from Kuroo’s first breakthrough hit and four since Kenma first started his Youtube channel- but their fans are… dedicated. Akaashi often marvels at how even Kenma takes it in stride. His popularity comes as no surprise to Akaashi, though; he's entertaining to watch and a seasoned video game expert. And Kuroo... Akaashi looks to the man, a ketchup stain dotting his lip.

"What?"

Well, they both deserve their good fortune. 

"Nothing, nothing."

He has interviewed them each multiple times for the journal. The good thing about his friends’ famous status is that Akaashi gets to profit from it as well. He tells Kuroo as much and the latter almost chokes on his stupidly expensive breakfast laughing. Akaashi cracks a small grin.

“I told you that was him!” The writer hears two girlish voices behind him, talking in excited whispers.

“E-Excuse me, K-Kuroo-san?” 

The rapper breaks out in a large grin, whispering, "Duty calls," cheekily to Akaashi. The latter gestures to his lip with a napkin. Kuroo understands, wiping his mouth and standing. He bows formally at the pair.

“Yes? Hello, ladies. Are you two fans of mine?”

“Yes!! Very much so! I loved your new song!” The girl, about 17 with dark lashes and fire-red hair, praises.

“Would-would you mind taking a picture with us!?” The other, younger girl chirps. She's blonde and seems a little starstruck. 

“Not at all! Akaashi, my pal, would you be a dear and snap some shots?” Kuroo asks with a fake sweetness in his voice.

It takes everything for Akaashi not to roll his eyes.

“But of course.”

* * *

This is how Akaashi comes to search up the 2018 Panthers roster on his phone, an hour after his brunch with Kuroo. He gives up his sleuthing when he realizes he doesn’t know what the guy looks like, nor does he remember his name. B-something? Or was it X?

He forgets about the whole thing until later that night, at Kenma’s celebration party for 5 million followers. It’s small, of course, about ten of them drinking sherry and playing games. Akaashi knows Hinata did all the planning anyway, despite the event being at Kenma’s. The trio are standing off to the side when Akaashi pulls out his phone briefly to check the time.

 _Kuroo should be here any minute,_ he thinks. Hinata peers too, instinctually curious.

“Hey! Whatcha looking up the Panthers for? That’s not the latest roster, you know! Ooh, you’re looking up X. Ace, right?!”

Akaashi looks down at the picture Hinata points to. The guy’s sturdy and smug with one thick eyebrow raised. His chest is broad and his eyes are perfectly golden. The first thing Akaashi notices, however, is his hair, black and silver and spiked to the heavens. _Absolutely ridiculous,_ he thinks. _Makes sense that this guy is Hinata’s idol_.

Kenma raises his eyebrows.

“What made you do that?” he asks.

“Oh, uh, just...curious.”

Kenma looks like he’s about to say more when Oikawa joins their group with a boisterous, “Pudding Head! Congratsssss!” He pinches the smaller’s cheeks, who just about hisses in response.

Akaashi, grateful for Oikawa’s interruption, takes another quick glance at "X. Ace" and pockets his phone.

“Thanks, Oikawa-san," Kenma begrudgingly replies.

Hinata grins wide when Tooru, seemingly already tipsy, ruffles his hair.

“When is Kuroo-”

Akaashi, ever vigilant, cuts in immediately, “Going to admit defeat?”

Oikawa seems to get the hint, his eyes widening in realization.

“Exactly! 5 mil, baby! How many monthly listeners does he have? 3, maybe 4? Want some more alcohol?” The chestnut-haired friend of Kuroo’s quickly shoves his bottle of strawberry rum in Kenma’s face.

“You know I hate your sticky Malibu. And try 13. It's not really a competition, anyway...”

Oikawa swallows once.

Hinata, completely oblivious to the unspoken dialogue between Akaashi and Oikawa, tugs Kenma’s shirt.

“Kenma, Kenma! We should stream!!”

“Hey, that’s not too bad an idea, Shouyo,” Akaashi adds, if just to distract him.

“Sure, we could play some MarioKart. My fans seem to like you guys. Just don’t do anything stupid, Tooru.”

“Who, me?! And when do I-” Oikawa starts dramatically. The rest of the men send him a collective stare which answers his question before he can even finish it. He crosses his arms with a huff.

“Whatever. I call Princess Peach.”

* * *

Kenma finishes setting up the Livestream and the small group gains over a couple thousand viewers. The steady influx of comments, reactions, and donations never fails to impress and terrify Akaashi. As usual, he is the quietest of the group.

And he's in dead last.

Well, almost dead last, except for...

“How am I losing? No fair, Kozume!” Oikawa whines.

“Me? What did I do?” Kenma-san replies, uninterested. Unsurprisingly, the Youtuber is in first place with his signature Toad.

“I don’t know, your fancy settings or something. Iwa-chan! Back me up, here!”

“It’s 'cause you suck, Trashy-kawa,” Iwaizumi-san, whom the quartet bribed into playing with agedashi dofu, doesn’t hesitate to retaliate. His player, Bowser, is in second, with Hinata close behind as Yoshi.

“Take that, Hajime-san! Oh, shoot! Sorry, Akaashi-san!” Hinata shouts, rising from his seat as he hurls a red shell, accidentally hitting Keiji's Blooper.

“Hinata, language!” Kuroo’s smooth voice floods the apartment in mock disapproval. Kenma whips his head so fast he drops his controller. The blonde doesn’t say anything but slowly rises to his feet, then breaks into a short run at the sight of his boyfriend. The former picks up Kenma effortlessly and twirls him in a tight embrace. Akaashi looks on fondly. 

“Kuroo-san!” Hinata exclaims, jumping up excitedly.

"Whoa! Did expect to see you so soon. How's tour?" Iwaizumi asks politely. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Tetsuro’s home early. I’m about to kick all of your asses!” Oikawa waves away his entrance, sticking out his tongue. Iwaizumi slaps him hard on the back of the head.

The stream chat has exploded at the sound of Kuroo.

bb-corp: is that Kuroo???

applephi: NO WAY djwhdnbwibdfwq

yoyotetsuro: couple goals

saintstrawberry: damn rich people, all in love n shit. smh. 

kurokenxx: will anyone ever love me like Kuroo loves Kenma?

keeeeenmaaa_: I think this is the first time Kodzuken’s lost at Mariokart

* * *

A little tired and a lot tipsy, Akaashi insists on taking a cab home. It doesn't feel right to crash at Kenma's when Kuroo's home, especially after his conversation with Kuroo today. Keiji could tell the pair _needed their space_ for the night. He briefly wonders if their engagement will be the end of nights spent on Kenma's couch. He can't bring himself to be upset about that, really.

He splits the ride with Hinata, who talks his ear off the whole way about Kuroo's arrival and how badly he wishes he had the money and time to go to a concert. Akaashi smirks at that, just a little. Shouyo exits the vehicle with an enthusiastic, "Bye, 'Kaashi-san!! I'll see you soon! Maybe I'll come to the store! Or, or, you can come to see me and Tobio-chan! He didn't come out tonight because he has a game tomorrow, but-" The rest of his goodbye is drowned out by him closing the door. Akaashi waves out the window.

"I apologize for the noise," Keiji addresses the driver. She makes a noise of recognition and drops him off 15 minutes later. He enters his small living room, dropping his keys unceremoniously on the floor next to his door. He thinks about his conversation with Kuroo earlier, about "baiting his hook". _What does that even mean?_ Akaashi doesn't exactly meet a lot of people with his work and his friends are all, well, with each other. He's happy for them, but sometimes being around so many couples makes him a bit... pessimistic. He _is_ only six years to thirty. Akaashi is struck with a small wave of loneliness as he waters his small bamboo plant, made worse by the two shots of Malibu Oikawa shoved down his throat. _This is all I have to come home to- a fucking bamboo plant._ Akaashi stares at its braided stalks with a vengeance. Not a second later, he pets its leaves in apology. _I shouldn't take this out on the plant._

He's always been relatively independent, but having someone felt kind of nice, for a change. It's been almost a year since Daichi left, and probably 6 months since he and Suga got together. It's one of those things that Akaashi didn't process for a while. His emotional delay left him to fend for himself when the realization came to knock him on his ass months down the line. He's been confronting turned over picture frames and empty sheets ever since.

And so it goes.

He pads over to his bed with a sigh and, for the second time today, falls asleep and dreams of nothing.


End file.
